The Sleeper's Judge
'Freedom: not certain again'
It was a bright morning, dews fell in torrents beside my thought; removing my focus from the attraction of life. My opportunity to grab the least justice left for me was again in blemish. Could the thought in my heart mean real? Will my anger congile to feight? Won’t I be slashed with the swords of emotion…?
The little creeping smile I always nurture wasn’t there when I sought it. Again, the tinge of fate relapsed in me; a bottomless hole was forging below my heart. Hundreds of fragile finger was pointing at me, my prime was cought in puddle and my crime was falsely addressed!
The jagged temper I bore diffused out of me and tears became my comfort. Pale as I am, bodies swerved across me without a notice or a wave. I was poised in the pocket of traitors; like a foolish novice. A thousand thought was running beneath my heart, loud and unheard. My very noble dress became a rag for the street, and my charming voice distorted with moans.
A very little and firm arm plunged towards me_ I took hold of it and followed it up to know the owner. Then, it dawned on me that I have taken the challenge of my chief traitor for a fight. Rejecting it will be more painful than a gladiator’s death.
Feebly, I lifted my self to stand erect; with my enemy looking, my legs shook surgesting that am too weak to rumble. A large long sword escaped towards me, coming in a full flight. I slumped down to the earth, so weak, and with much vigor; I peered at the sword that was pointing at me.
A sword clashed, and a sword fell in thud on my shackles followed by a rolling of head away from me. I lifted my eye and behold a dripping sword as large as anything pointing at me; again? I threw my gaze away, searching for nothing. Somebody bent over me and wispered ‘you are free.’
I plunged the fifth key into my shackles as fast as I could, trying to open it before my rescuer become anoyed about my laziness; but I swear, the key to the shackle was not in the bunch! How come? Little does it occur to me that am yet in another trouble?
I took hold of my shackles, with much effort; I shambled off into the woods. From thence, I gained a little freedom. Lo and behold, I was cought again in my little move for escape. I paraded my justice through my voiceless shout of innocency. But on the long run, I learnt that I was sliding down thick rocks hidden; now, my joy had become a perambulating reverence.
'A man with vision is like a lamp burning in a dark night.'
© 2019 Uru Ruchi